CHAPTER XXIII.

THE UNCOVERING OF THE NINTH VEIL: CONCERNING COMPANIONSHIP, TOGETHER

WITH ITS RULES AND PRINCIPLES.

The Apostle said: “Good manners (_ḥusn al-adab_) are a part of faith.”

And he also said: “My Lord corrected me (_addabaní_) and gave me an

excellent correction.” You must know that the seemliness and decorum of

all religious and temporal affairs depends on rules of discipline

(_ádáb_), and that every station in which the various classes of mankind

are placed has its own particular rule. Among men good manners consist

in the observance of virtue (_muruwwat_); as regards religion they

consist in the observance of the Apostolic custom (_sunna_); and as

regards love they consist in the observance of respect (_ḥurmat_). These

three categories are connected with each other, because one who is

without virtue does not comply with the custom of the Apostle, and

whoever fails to comply with the custom of the Apostle does not observe

due respect. In matters of conduct the observance of discipline is the

result of reverence for the object of desire; and reverence for God and

His ordinances springs from fear of God (_taqwá_). Anyone who

disrespectfully tramples on the reverence that is due to the evidences

of God has no part or lot in the Path of Ṣúfiism; and in no case are

rules of discipline neglected by seekers of God, because they are

habituated to such rules, and habit is second nature. It is impossible

that a living creature should be divested of its natural humours:

therefore, so long as the human body remains in existence men are bound

to keep the rules of obedience to God, sometimes with effort

(_takalluf_) and sometimes without effort: with effort when they are

‘sober’, but when they are ‘intoxicated’ God sees that they keep the

rules. A person who neglects the rules cannot possibly be a saint, for

“good manners are characteristic of those whom God loves”. When God

vouchsafes a miracle to anyone, it is a proof that He causes him to

fulfil the duties of religion. This is opposed to the view of some

heretics, who assert that when a man is overpowered by love he is no

longer subject to obedience. I will set forth this matter more lucidly

in another place.

Rules of discipline are of three kinds. Firstly, those which are

observed towards God in unification (_tawḥíd_). Here the rule is that

one must guard one’s self in public and private from any disrespectful

act, and behave as though one were in the presence of a king. It is

related in the genuine Traditions that one day the Apostle was sitting

with his legs drawn in (_páy gird_). Gabriel came and said: “O Muḥammad,

sit as servants do in their master’s presence.” Ḥárith Muḥásibí is said

never to have leaned his back against a wall, by day or night, for forty

years, and never to have sat except on his knees. On being asked why he

gave himself so much trouble he replied: “I am ashamed to sit otherwise

than as a servant while I am contemplating God.” I, `Alí b. `Uthmán

al-Jullábí, was once in a village called Kamand,[164] at the extremity

of Khurásán. There I saw a well-known and very excellent man, whose name

is Adíb-i Kamandí. For twenty years he had never sat down except in his

prayers, when he was pronouncing the profession of faith. I inquired the

reason of this, and he answered that he had not yet attained such a

degree that he should sit while contemplating God. Abú Yazíd was asked

by what means he had gained so high spiritual rank. He answered: “By

good companionship with God,” i.e. by keeping the rules of discipline

and behaving in private as in public. All human beings ought to learn

from Zulaykhá how to observe good manners in contemplating the object of

their adoration, for when she was alone with Joseph and besought him to

consent to her wishes, she first covered up the face of her idol in

order that it might not witness her want of propriety. And when the

Apostle was borne to Heaven at the Ascension, his observance of

discipline restrained him from paying any regard either to this world or

to the next.

Footnote 164:

Kumand, according to _Nafaḥát_, No. 379.

The second kind of discipline is that which is observed towards one’s

self in one’s conduct, and which consists in avoiding, when one is in

one’s own company, any act that would be improper in the company of

one’s fellow-creatures or of God, e.g., one must not utter an untruth by

declaring one’s self to be what one is not, and one must eat little in

order that one may seldom go to the lavatory, and one must not look at

anything which it is not decent for others to see. It is related that

`Alí never beheld his own nakedness, because he was ashamed to see in

himself what he was forbidden to see in others.

The third kind of discipline is that which is observed in social

intercourse with one’s fellow-creatures. The most important rule for

such intercourse is to act well, and to observe the custom of the

Apostle at home and abroad.

These three sorts of discipline cannot be separated from one another.

Now I will set them forth in detail as far as possible, in order that

you and all my readers may follow them more easily.

_Chapter on Companionship and matters connected therewith._

God hath said: “_Verily, the merciful God will bestow love on those who

believe and do good works_” (Kor. xix, 96), i.e., He will love them and

cause them to be loved, because they do their duty towards their

brethren and prefer them to themselves. And the Apostle said: “Three

things render thy brother’s love toward thee sincere: that thou shouldst

salute him when thou meetest him, and that thou shouldst make room for

him when he sits beside thee, and that thou shouldst call him by the

name that he likes best.” And God said, “_The believers are brethren:

therefore reconcile your two brethren_” (Kor. xlix, 10); and the Apostle

said, “Get many brethren, for your Lord is bashful (_ḥayí_) and kind: He

will be ashamed to punish His servant in the presence of his brethren on

the Day of Resurrection.”

But companionship must be for God’s sake, not for the purpose of

gratifying the lower soul or any selfish interest, in order that a man

may be divinely rewarded for observing the rules of companionship. Málik

b. Dínár said to his son-in-law, Mughíra b. Shu`ba: “If you derive no

religious benefit from a brother and friend, abandon his society, that

you may be saved,” i.e. associate either with one who is superior or

with one who is inferior to yourself. In the former case you will derive

benefit from him, and in the latter case the benefit will be mutual,

since each will learn something from the other. Hence the Apostle said,

“It is the whole of piety to instruct one who is ignorant;” and Yaḥyá b.

Mu`ádh (al-Rází) said, “He is a bad friend to whom you need to say,

‘Remember me in thy prayers’” (because a man ought always to pray for

anyone with whom he has associated even for a moment); and he is a bad

friend with whom you cannot live except on condition of flattering him

(because candour is involved in the principle of companionship); and he

is a bad friend to whom you need to apologize for a fault that you have

committed (because apologies are made by strangers, and in companionship

it is wrong to be on such terms). The Apostle said: “A man follows the

religion of his friend: take heed, therefore, with whom you form a

friendship.” If he associates with the good, their society will make him

good, although he is bad; and if he associates with the wicked, he will

be wicked, although he is good, because he will be consenting to their

wickedness. It is related that a man said, while he was circumambulating

the Ka`ba, “O God, make my brethren good!” On being asked why he did not

implore a boon for himself in such a place, he replied: “I have brethren

to whom I shall return; if they are good, I shall be good with them, and

if they are wicked, I shall be wicked with them.”

The Ṣúfí Shaykhs demand from each other the fulfilment of the duties of

companionship and enjoin their disciples to require the same, so that

amongst them companionship has become like a religious obligation. The

Shaykhs have written many books explaining the rules of Ṣúfí

companionship; e.g., Junayd composed a work entitled _Taṣḥíḥ

al-irádat_,[165] and Aḥmad b. Khaḍrúya of Balkh another, entitled

_Al-Ri`áyat bi-ḥuqúq_[166] _Allah_,[167] and Muḥammad b. `Alí of Tirmidh

another, entitled _Ádáb al-murídín_.[168] Other exhaustive treatises on

this subject have been written by Abu ´l-Qásim al-Ḥakím,[169] Abú Bakr

al-Warráq, Sahl b. `Abdalláh (al-Tustarí), Abú `Abd al-Raḥmán al-Sulamí,

and Master Abu ´l-Qásim Qushayrí. All those writers are great

authorities on Ṣúfiism, but I desire that my book should enable anyone

who possesses it to dispense with other books and, as I said in the

preface, be sufficient in itself for you and for all students of the

Ṣúfí doctrine. I will now classify in separate chapters their various

rules of discipline relating to conduct.

Footnote 165:

“The Rectification of Discipleship.”

Footnote 166:

So all the texts, instead of the correct _li-ḥuqúq_.

Footnote 167:

“The Observance of what is due to God.”

Footnote 168:

“Rules of Conduct for Disciples.”

Footnote 169:

_Nafaḥát_, No. 129.

_Chapter concerning the Rules of Companionship._

Since you have perceived that the most important thing for the novice is

companionship, the fulfilment of its obligations is necessarily

incumbent on him. Solitude is fatal to the novice, for the Apostle said,

“Satan is with the solitary, but he is farther away from two who are

together;” and God hath said, “_There is no private discourse among

three persons but God is the fourth of them_” (Kor. lviii, 8). I have

read in the Anecdotes that a disciple of Junayd imagined that he had

attained to the degree of perfection, and that it was better for him to

be alone. Accordingly he went into retirement and withdrew from the

society of his brethren. At nightfall a camel used to appear, and he was

told that it would take him to Paradise; on mounting it, he was conveyed

to a pleasant demesne, with beautiful inhabitants and delicious viands

and flowing streams, where he stayed till dawn; then he fell asleep, and

on waking found himself at the door of his cell. These experiences

filled him with pride and he could not refrain from boasting of them.

When Junayd heard the story he hastened to the disciple’s cell, and

having received from him a full account of what had passed, said to him:

“To-night, when you come to that place, remember to say thrice, ‘There

is no strength or power but in God, the High, the Great.’” The same

night he was carried off as usual, and though in his heart he did not

believe Junayd, by way of trial he repeated those words thrice. The crew

around him shrieked and vanished, and he found himself seated on a

dunghill in the midst of rotten bones. He acknowledged his fault and

repented and returned to companionship.

The principle of the Ṣúfís in companionship is that they should treat

everyone according to his degree. Thus they treat old men with respect,

like fathers; those of their own sort with agreeable familiarity, like

brothers; and young men with affection, like sons. They renounce hate,

envy, and malice, and do not withhold sincere admonition from anyone. In

companionship it is not permissible to speak evil of the absent, or to

behave dishonestly, or to deny one another on account of any word or

deed, because a companionship which is begun for God’s sake should not

be cut short by human words or acts. The author says: “I asked the Grand

Shaykh Abu ´l-Qásim Gurgání what obligations were involved in

companionship. He replied: ‘It involves this, that you should not seek

your own interest; all the evils of companionship arise from

selfishness. Solitude is better for a selfish man. He who neglects his

own interests and looks after the interests of his companion hits the

mark in companionship.’” A certain dervish relates as follows: “Once I

set out from Kúfa to visit Mecca. On the way I met Ibráhím Khawwáṣ and

begged him to let me accompany him. He said: ‘In companionship it is

necessary that one should command and the other should obey: which do

you choose?’ I answered: ‘You be the commander.’ He said: ‘Now do not

fail to comply with my orders.’ When we arrived at the halting-place, he

bade me sit down, and himself drew water from the well and, since the

weather was cold, he gathered sticks and kindled a fire, and whenever I

attempted to do anything he told me to sit down. At nightfall it began

to rain heavily. He took off his patched frock and held it over my head

all night. I was ashamed, but could not say a word on account of the

condition imposed on me. When morning came, I said: ‘To-day it is my

turn to be commander.’ He said: ‘Very well.’ As soon as we reached the

halting-place, he began to perform the same menial offices as before,

and on my telling him not to disobey my orders he retorted that it was

an act of disobedience to let one’s self be served by one’s commander.

He continued to behave in this way until we arrived at Mecca; then I

felt so ashamed that I fled from him. He espied me, however, at Miná and

said to me: ‘O son, when you associate with dervishes see that you treat

them in the same fashion as I treated you.’”

Dervishes are divided into two classes: residents (_muqímán_) and

travellers (_musáfirán_). According to the custom of the Shaykhs, the

travelling dervishes should regard the resident ones as superior to

themselves, because they go to and fro in their own interest, while the

resident dervishes have settled down in the service of God: in the

former is the sign of search, in the latter is the token of attainment;

hence those who have found and settled down are superior to those who

are still seeking. Similarly, the resident dervishes ought to regard the

travelling ones as superior to themselves, because they are laden with

worldly encumbrances, while the travelling dervishes are unencumbered

and detached from the world. Again, old men should prefer to themselves

the young, who are newer to the world and whose sins are less numerous;

and young men should prefer to themselves the old, who have outstripped

them in devotion and service.

SECTION.

Culture (_adab_) really means “the collection of virtuous qualities”,

though in ordinary language anyone is called “cultured” (_adíb_) who is

acquainted with Arabic philology and grammar. But the Ṣúfís define

culture as “dwelling with praiseworthy qualities”, and say that it means

“to act with propriety towards God in public and private”; if you act

thus, you are “cultured”, even if you are a foreigner (i.e. a non-Arab),

and if not, you are the opposite. Those who have knowledge are in every

case more honoured than those who have intelligence. A certain Shaykh

was asked: “What does culture involve?” He said: ”I will answer you by

quoting a definition which I have heard, ‘If you speak, your speech will

be sincere, and if you act, your actions will be true.’ An excellent

distinction has been made by Shaykh Abú Naṣr Sarráj, the author of the

_Luma`_, who says: “As regards culture (_adab_), there are three classes

of mankind. Firstly, worldlings, whose culture mainly consists in

eloquence and rhetoric and learning and knowledge of the nightly

conversations (_asmár_[170]) of kings and Arabic poetry. Secondly, the

religious, whose culture chiefly consists in disciplining the lower soul

and correcting the limbs and observing the legal ordinances and

renouncing lusts. Thirdly, the elect (i.e. the Ṣúfís), whose culture

consists for the most part in spiritual purity and keeping watch over

their hearts and fulfilling their promises and guarding the ‘state’ in

which they are and paying no heed to extraneous suggestions and behaving

with propriety in the positions of search (for God), in the states of

presence (with God), and in the stations of proximity (to God).” This

saying is comprehensive. The different matters which it includes are

discussed in several places in this book.

Footnote 170:

Another reading is _asmá_, “names,” but I find _asmár_ in the MS. of

the _Kitáb al-Luma`_ belonging to Mr. A. G. Ellis, where this passage

occurs on f. 63_a._

_Chapter on the Rules of Companionship affecting Residents._

Dervishes who choose to reside, and not to travel, are bound to observe

the following rules of discipline. When a traveller comes to them, they

must meet him joyfully and receive him with respect and treat him like

an honoured guest and freely set before him whatever food they have,

modelling their behaviour upon that of Abraham. They must not inquire

whence he has come or whither he is going or what is his name, but must

deem that he has come from God and is going to God and that his name is

“servant of God”; then they must see whether he desires to be alone or

in company: if he prefers to be alone, they must give him an empty room,

and if he prefers company, they must consort with him unceremoniously in

a friendly and sociable manner. When he lays his head on his pillow at

night the resident dervish ought to offer to wash his feet, but if the

traveller should not allow him to do this and should say that he is not

accustomed to it, the resident must not insist, for fear of causing him

annoyance. Next day, he must offer him a bath and take him to the

cleanest bath available and save his clothes from (becoming dirty in)

the latrines of the bath, and not permit a strange attendant to wait

upon him, but wait upon him zealously in order to make him clean of all

stains, and scrape (_bikhárad_) his back and rub his knees and the soles

of his feet and his hands: more than this he is not obliged to do. And

if the resident dervish has sufficient means, he should provide a new

garment for his guest; otherwise, he need not trouble himself, but he

should clean his guest’s clothes so that he may put them on when he

comes out of the bath. If the traveller remains two or three days, he

should be invited to visit any spiritual director or Imám who may be in

the town, but he must not be compelled to pay such visits against his

inclination, because those who seek God are not always masters of their

own feelings; e.g., Ibráhím Khawwáṣ on one occasion refused to accompany

Khiḍr, who desired his society, for he was unwilling that his feelings

should be engaged by anyone except God. Certainly it is not right that a

resident dervish should take a traveller to salute worldly men or to

attend their entertainments, sick-beds, and funerals; and if a resident

hopes to make travellers an instrument of mendicancy (_álat-i gadá´í_)

and conduct them from house to house, it would be better for him to

refrain from serving them instead of subjecting them to humiliation.

Among all the troubles and inconveniences that I have suffered when

travelling none was worse than to be carried off time after time by

ignorant servants and impudent dervishes of this sort and conducted from

the house of such and such a Khwája to the house of such and such a

Dihqán, while, though apparently complaisant, I felt a great dislike to

go with them. I then vowed that, if ever I became resident, I would not

behave towards travellers with this impropriety. Nothing derived from

associating with ill-mannered persons is more useful than the lesson

that you must endure their disagreeable behaviour and must not imitate

it. On the other hand, if a travelling dervish becomes at his ease

(_munbasiṭ_) with a resident and stays for some time and makes a worldly

demand, the resident is bound immediately to give him what he wants; but

if the traveller is an impostor and low-minded, the resident must not

act meanly in order to comply with his impossible requirements, for this

is not the way of those who are devoted to God. What business has a

dervish to associate with devotees if he needs worldly things? Let him

go to the market and buy and sell, or let him be a soldier at the

sultan’s court. It is related that, while Junayd and his pupils were

sitting occupied in some ascetic discipline, a travelling dervish came

in. They exerted themselves to entertain him and placed food before him.

He said: “I want such and such a thing besides this.” Junayd said to

him: “You must go to the bazaar, for you are a man of the market, not of

the mosque and the cell.” Once I set out from Damascus with two

dervishes to visit Ibn al-Mu`allá,[171] who was living in the country

near Ramla. On the way we arranged that each of us should think of the

matter concerning which we were in doubt, in order that that venerable

director might tell us our secret thoughts and solve our difficulties. I

said to myself: “I will desire of him the poems and intimate

supplications (_munáját_) of Ḥusayn b. Manṣúr (al-Ḥalláj).” One of my

companions said, “I will desire him to pray that my disease of the

spleen (_ṭiḥál_) may become better;” and the other said, “I will wish

for sweetmeat of different colours” (_ḥalwá-yi ṣábúní_). As soon as we

arrived, Ibn al-Mu`allá commanded that a manuscript of the poems and

supplications of Ḥusayn should be presented to me, and laid his hand on

the belly of the invalid so that his illness was assuaged, and said to

the other dervish: “Parti-coloured sweetmeat is eaten by soldiers

(_`awánán_); you are dressed as a saint, and the dress of a saint does

not accord with the appetite of a soldier. Choose one or the other.”

Footnote 171:

I. Ibn al-`Alá.

In short, the resident is not obliged to pay attention to the travelling

dervish unless the latter’s attention is paid entirely to God. If he is

devoted to his own interests, it is impossible that another should help

him to gratify his selfishness, for dervishes are guides (_ráhbarán_),

not brigands (_ráhburán_), to each other. So long as anyone perseveres

in a selfish demand, his friend ought to resist it, but when he

renounces it, then his friend ought to satisfy it. In the Traditions of

the Apostle it is related that he made a brotherhood between Salmán

(al-Fárisí) and Abú Dharr Ghifárí, both of whom were leading men among

the People of the Veranda (_ahl-i ṣuffa_) and eminent spiritualists. One

day, when Salmán came to visit Abú Dharr at his house, Abú Dharr’s wife

complained to him that her husband neither ate by day nor slept by

night. Salmán told her to fetch some food, and said to Abú Dharr: “O

brother, I desire thee to eat, since this fasting is not incumbent on

thee.” Abú Dharr complied. And at night Salmán said: “O brother, I beg

thee to sleep: thy body and thy wife have a claim upon thee, as well as

thy Lord.” Next day Abú Dharr went to the Apostle, who said: “I say the

same thing as Salmán said yesterday: verily, thy body has a claim upon

thee.” Inasmuch as Abú Dharr had renounced his selfish pleasures, Salmán

persuaded him to gratify them. Whatever you do on this principle is

sound and impregnable. Once, in the territories of `Iráq, I was

restlessly occupied (_tápákí míkardam_) in seeking wealth and

squandering it, and I had run largely into debt. Everyone who wanted

anything turned to me, and I was troubled and at a loss to know how I

could accomplish their desires. An eminent person wrote to me as

follows: “Beware lest you distract your mind from God by satisfying the

wishes of those whose minds are engrossed in vanity. If you find anyone

whose mind is nobler than your own, you may justly distract your mind in

order to give peace to his. Otherwise, do not distract yourself, since

God is sufficient for His servants.” These words brought me instant

relief.

_Chapter concerning their Rules in Travel._

When a dervish chooses to travel, not to reside, he ought to observe the

following rules. In the first place, he must travel for God’s sake, not

for pleasure, and as he journeys outwardly, so he should flee inwardly

from his sensual affections; and he must always keep himself in a state

of purity and not neglect his devotions; and his object in travelling

must be either pilgrimage or war (against infidels) or to see a (holy)

site or to derive instruction or to seek knowledge or to visit a

venerable person, a Shaykh, or the tomb of a saint; otherwise his

journey will be faulty. And he cannot do without a patched frock and a

prayer-rug and a bucket and a rope and a pair of shoes (_kafsh_) or

clogs (_na`layn_) and a staff: the patched frock to cover his nakedness,

the prayer-rug to pray on, the bucket to cleanse himself with, and the

staff to protect him from attacks and for other purposes. Before

stepping on the prayer-rug he must put on his shoes or clogs in a state

of purity. If anyone carries other articles, for the sake of keeping the

Sunna (Apostolic custom), such as a comb and nail-scissors and a needle

and a little box of antimony (_mukḥula_), he does right. If, however,

anyone provides himself with more utensils than those which have been

mentioned, we have to consider in what station he is: if he is a novice

every article will be a shackle and a stumbling-block and a veil to him,

and will afford him the means of showing self-conceit, but if he is a

firmly grounded adept he may carry all these articles and more. I heard

the following story from Shaykh Abú Muslim Fáris b. Ghálib al-Fárisí.

“One day (he said) I paid a visit to Shaykh Abú Sa`íd b. Abi ´l-Khayr

Faḍlalláh b. Muḥammad. I found him sleeping on a couch with four

cushions (_takhtí chahár-bálish_), one of his legs thrown across the

other; and he was dressed in fine Egyptian linen (_diqqí Miṣrí_). My

garment was so dirty that it resembled leather, and my body was

emaciated by austerities. On looking at Abú Sa`íd a feeling of

scepticism overcame me. I said to myself: ‘He is a dervish, and so am I,

yet he is in all this luxury and I in this sore tribulation.’ He

immediately divined my thoughts and was aware of my vainglory. ‘O Abú

Muslim,’ said he, ‘in what díwán have you read that a self-conceited man

is a dervish? Since I see God in all things, God sets me on a throne,

and since you see yourself in everything, God keeps you in affliction:

my lot is contemplation, while yours is mortification. These are two

stations on the Way to God, but God is far aloof from them both, and a

dervish is dead to all stations and free from all states.’ On hearing

these words my senses forsook me, and the whole world grew dark in my

eyes. When I came to myself I repented, and he accepted my repentance.

Then I said: ‘O Shaykh, give me leave to depart, for I cannot bear the

sight of thee.’ He answered, ‘O Abú Muslim, you speak the truth;’ then

he quoted this verse:—

‘_That which my ear was unable to hear by report

My eye beheld actually all at once._’”

The travelling dervish must always observe the custom of the Apostle,

and when he comes to the house of a resident he should enter his

presence respectfully and greet him; and he should first take off the

shoe on his left foot, as the Apostle did; and when he puts his shoes

on, he should first put on the shoe belonging to his right foot; and he

should wash his right foot before his left; and he should perform two

bowings of the head by way of salutation (in prayer) and then occupy

himself with attending to the (religious) duties incumbent on dervishes.

He must not in any case interfere with the residents, or behave

immoderately towards anyone, or talk of the hardships which he may have

suffered in travelling, or discourse on theology, or tell anecdotes, or

recite traditions in company, for all this is a sign of self-conceit. He

must be patient when he is vexed by fools and must tolerate their

irksomeness for God’s sake, for in patience there are many blessings. If

residents or their servants bid him go with them to salute or visit the

townspeople, he must acquiesce if he can, but in his heart he ought to

dislike paying such marks of respect to worldlings, although he should

excuse the behaviour of his brethren who act thus. He must take care not

to trouble them by making any unreasonable demand, and he must not drag

them to the court of high officials with the purpose of seeking an idle

pleasure for himself. Travelling, as well as resident, dervishes must

always, in companionship, endeavour to please God, and must have a good

belief in each other, and not speak ill of any comrade face to face with

him or behind his back, because true mystics in regarding the act see

the Agent, and inasmuch as every human being, of whatever description he

may be—faulty or faultless, veiled or illuminated—belongs to God and is

His creature, to quarrel with a human act is to quarrel with the Divine

Agent.

_Chapter concerning their Rules in Eating._

Men cannot dispense with nourishment, but moral virtue requires that

they should not eat or drink in excess. Sháfi`í says: “He who thinks

about that which goes into his belly is worth only that which comes out

of it.” Nothing is more hurtful to a novice in Ṣúfiism than eating too

much. I have read in the Anecdotes that Abú Yazíd was asked why he

praised hunger so highly. He answered: “Because if Pharaoh had been

hungry he would not have said, ‘I am your Supreme Lord,’ and if Qárún

(Korah) had been hungry he would not have been rebellious.”

Tha`laba[172] was praised by all so long as he was hungry, but when he

ate his fill he displayed hypocrisy. Sahl b. `Abdalláh (al-Tustarí)

said: “In my judgment, a belly full of wine is better than one full of

lawful food.” On being asked the reason of this he said: “When a man’s

belly is filled with wine, his intellect is stupefied and the flame of

lust is quenched, and people are secure from his hand and tongue; but

when his belly is filled with lawful food he desires foolishness, and

his lust waxes great and his lower soul rises to seek her pleasures.”

The Shaykhs have said, describing the Ṣúfís: “They eat like sick men,

and sleep like shipwrecked men, and speak like one whose children have

died.”

Footnote 172:

See Bayḍáwí on Kor. ix, 76.

It is an obligatory rule that they should not eat alone, but should

unselfishly share their food with one another; and when seated at table

they should not be silent, and should begin by saying “In God’s name”;

and they should not put anything down or lift anything up in such a way

as to offend their comrades, and they should dip the first mouthful in

salt, and should deal fairly by their friends. Sahl b. `Abdalláh

(al-Tustarí) was asked about the meaning of the verse: “_Verily God

enjoins justice and beneficence_” (Kor. xvi, 92). He replied: “Justice

consists in dealing fairly with one’s friend in regard to a morsel of

food, and beneficence consists in deeming him to have a better claim to

that morsel than yourself.” My Shaykh used to say: “I am astonished at

the impostor who declares that he has renounced the world, and is

anxious about a morsel of food.” Furthermore, the Ṣúfí should eat with

his right hand and should look only at his own morsel, and while eating

he should not drink unless he is extremely thirsty, and if he drinks he

should drink only as much as will moisten his liver. He should not eat

large mouthfuls, and should chew his food well and not make haste;

otherwise he will be acting contrary to the custom of the Apostle, and

will probably suffer from indigestion (_tukhama_). When he has finished

eating, he should give praise to God and wash his hands. If two or three

or more persons belonging to a community of dervishes go to a dinner and

eat something without informing their brethren, according to some

Shaykhs this is unlawful and constitutes a breach of companionship, but

some hold it to be allowable when a number of persons act thus in union

with each other, and some allow it in the case of a single person, on

the ground that he is not obliged to deal fairly when he is alone but

when he is in company; consequently, being alone, he is relieved of the

obligations of companionship and is not responsible for his act. Now,

the most important principle in this matter is that the invitation of a

dervish should not be refused, and that the invitation of a rich man

should not be accepted. Dervishes ought not to go to the houses of rich

men or beg anything of them: such conduct is demoralizing for Ṣúfís,

because worldlings are not on confidential terms (_maḥram_) with the

dervish. Much wealth, however, does not make a man “rich” (_dunyá-dár_),

nor does little wealth make him “poor”. No one who acknowledges that

poverty is better than riches is “rich”, even though he be a king; and

anyone who disbelieves in poverty is “rich”, even though he be reduced

to want. When a dervish attends a party he should not constrain himself

either to eat or not to eat, but should behave in accordance with his

feelings at the time (_bar ḥukm-i waqt_). If the host is a congenial

person (_maḥram_), it is right that a married man (_muta´ahhil_) should

condone a fault; and if the host is uncongenial, it is not allowable to

go to his house. But in any case it is better not to commit a fault, for

Sahl b. `Abdalláh (al-Tustarí) says: “Backsliding is abasement”

(_al-zillat dhillat_).

_Chapter concerning their Rules in Walking._

God hath said: “_And the servants of the Merciful are they who walk on

the earth meekly_” (Kor. xxv, 64). The seeker of God, as he walks,

should know at each step he makes whether that step is against God or of

God: if it is against God, he must ask for pardon, and if it is of God,

he must persevere in it, that it may be increased. One day Dáwud Ṭá´í

had taken some medicine. They said to him: “Go into the court of this

house for a little while, in order that the good result of the medicine

may become apparent.” He replied: “I am ashamed that on the Day of

Judgment God should ask me why I made a few steps for my own selfish

pleasure. God Almighty hath said: ‘_And their feet shall bear witness of

that which they used to commit_’“ (Kor. xxxvi, 65). Therefore the

dervish should walk circumspectly, with his head bowed in meditation

(_muráqabat_), and not look in any direction but in front. If any person

meets him on the way, he must not draw himself back from him for the

sake of saving his dress, for all Moslems are clean, and their clothes

too; such an act is mere conceit and self-ostentation. If, however, the

person who meets him is an unbeliever, or manifestly filthy, he may turn

from him unobtrusively. And when he walks with a number of people, he

must not attempt to go in front of them, since that is an excess of

pride; nor must he attempt to go behind them, since that is an excess of

humility, and humility of which one is conscious is essentially pride.

He must keep his clogs and shoes as clean as he can by day in order that

God, through the blessings thereof, may keep his clothes (clean) by

night. And when one or more dervishes are with anyone, he should not

stop on the way (to talk) with any person, nor should he tell that

person to wait for him. He should walk quietly and should not hurry,

else his walk will resemble that of the covetous; nor should he walk

slowly, for then his walk will resemble that of the proud; and he should

take steps of the full length (_gám-i tamám nihad_). In fine, the walk

of the seeker of God should always be of such a description that if

anyone should ask him whither he is going he should be able to answer

decisively: ”_Verily, I am going to my Lord: He will direct me_” (Kor.

xxxvii, 97). Otherwise his walking is a curse to him, because right

steps (_khaṭawát_) proceed from right thoughts (_khaṭarát_): accordingly

if a man’s thoughts are concentrated on God, his feet will follow his

thoughts. It is related that Abú Yazíd said: “The inconsiderate walk

(_rawish-i bé muráqabat_) of a dervish is a sign that he is heedless (of

God), because all that exists is attained in two steps: one step away

from self-interest and the other step firmly planted on the commandments

of God.” The walk of the seeker is a sign that he is traversing a

certain distance, and since proximity to God is not a matter of

distance, what can the seeker do but cut off his feet in the abode of

rest?

_Chapter concerning their Rules of Sleeping in travel and at home._

There is a great difference of opinion among the Shaykhs on this

subject. Some hold that it is not permissible for a novice to sleep

except when he is overpowered by slumber, for the Apostle said: “Sleep

is the brother of Death,” and inasmuch as life is a benefit conferred by

God, whereas death is an affliction, the former must be more excellent

than the latter. And it is related that Shiblí said: “God looked upon me

and said, ‘He who sleeps is heedless, and he who is heedless is

veiled.’” Others, again, hold that a novice may sleep at will and even

constrain himself to sleep after having performed the Divine commands,

for the Apostle said: “The Pen does not record (evil actions) against

the sleeper until he awakes, or against the boy until he reaches

puberty, or against the madman until he recovers his wits.” When a man

is asleep, people are secure from his mischief and he is deprived of his

personal volition and his lower soul is prevented from gaining its

desires and the Recording Angels cease to write; his tongue makes no

false assertion and speaks no evil of the absent, and his will places no

hope in conceit and ostentation; “he does not possess for himself either

bane or boon or death or life or resurrection.” Hence Ibn `Abbás says:

“Nothing is more grievous to Iblís than a sinner’s sleep; whenever the

sinner sleeps, Iblís says, ‘When will he wake and rise up that he may

disobey God?’” This was a point of controversy between Junayd and `Alí

b. Sahl al-Iṣfahání. The latter wrote to Junayd a very fine epistle,

which I have heard, to the effect that sleep is heedlessness and rest is

a turning away from God: the lover must not sleep or rest by day or by

night, otherwise he will lose the object of his desire and will forget

himself and his state and will fail to attain to God, as God said to

David, “O David, he who pretends to love Me and sleeps when night covers

him is a liar.” Junayd said in his reply to that letter: “Our

wakefulness consists in our acts of devotion to God, whereas our sleep

is God’s act towards us: that which proceeds from God to us without our

will is more perfect than that which proceeds from us to God with our

will. Sleep is a gift which God bestows on those who love Him.” This

question depends on the doctrine of sobriety and intoxication, which has

been fully discussed above. It is remarkable that Junayd, who was

himself a “sober” man, here supports intoxication. Seemingly, he was

enraptured at the time when he wrote and his temporary state may have

expressed itself by his tongue; or, again, it may be that the opposite

is the case and that sleep is actually sobriety, while wakefulness is

actually intoxication, because sleep is an attribute of humanity, and a

man is “sober” so long as he is in the shadow of his attributes:

wakefulness, on the other hand, is an attribute of God, and when a man

transcends his own attribute he is enraptured. I have met with a number

of Shaykhs who agree with Junayd in preferring sleep to wakefulness,

because the visions of the saints and of most of the apostles occurred

during sleep. And the Apostle said: “Verily, God takes pride in the

servant who sleeps while he prostrates himself in prayer; and He says to

His angels, ‘Behold My servant, whose spirit is in the abode of secret

conversation (_najwá_) while his body is on the carpet of worship.’” The

Apostle also said: “Whoever sleeps in a state of purification, his

spirit is permitted to circumambulate the Throne and prostrate itself

before God.” I have read in the Anecdotes that Sháh Shujá` of Kirmán

kept awake for forty years. One night he fell asleep and saw God, and

afterwards he used always to sleep in hope of seeing the same vision.

This is the meaning of the verse of Qays of the Banú `Ámir[173]—

“_Truly I wish to sleep, although I am not drowsy,

That perchance thy beloved image may encounter mine._”

Footnote 173:

Generally known as Majnún, the lover of Laylá. See Brockelmann, i, 48.

Other Shaykhs whom I have seen agree with `Alí b. Sahl in preferring

wakefulness to sleep, because the apostles received their revelations

and the saints their miracles while they were awake. One of the Shaykhs

says: “If there were any good in sleep there would be sleep in

Paradise,” i.e., if sleep were the cause of love and proximity to God,

it would follow that there must be sleep in Paradise, which is the

dwelling-place of proximity; since neither sleep nor any veil is in

Paradise, we know that sleep is a veil. Those who are fond of subtleties

(_arbáb-i láṭá´if_) say that when Adam fell asleep in Paradise Eve came

forth from his left side, and Eve was the source of all his afflictions.

They say also that when Abraham told Ishmael that he had been ordered in

a dream to sacrifice him, Ishmael replied: “This is the punishment due

to one who sleeps and forgets his beloved. If you had not fallen asleep

you would not have been commanded to sacrifice your son.” It is related

that Shiblí every night used to place in front of him a bowl of salt

water and a needle for applying collyrium, and whenever he was about to

fall asleep he would dip the needle in the salt water and draw it along

his eyelids. I, `Alí b. `Uthmán al-Jullábí, have met with a spiritual

director who used to sleep after finishing the performance of his

obligatory acts of devotion; and I have seen Shaykh Aḥmad Samarqandí,

who was living at Bukhárá: during forty years he had never slept at

night, but he used to sleep a little in the daytime. This question turns

on the view taken of life and death. Those who prefer death to life must

prefer sleep to waking, while those who prefer life to death must prefer

waking to sleep. Merit belongs, not to the man who forces himself to

keep awake, but to the man who is kept awake. The Apostle, whom God

chose and whom He raised to the highest rank, did not force himself

either to sleep or to wake. God commanded him, saying: “_Rise and pray

during the night, except a small part: half thereof or less_” (Kor.

lxxiii, 2-3). Similarly, merit does not belong to the man who forces

himself to sleep, but only to the man who is put to sleep. The Men of

the Cave did not constrain themselves to sleep or to wake, but God threw

slumber upon them and nourished them without their will. When a man

attains to such a degree that his will no longer exists, and his hand is

withdrawn from everything, and his thoughts are averted from all except

God, it matters not whether he is asleep or awake: in either case he is

full of honour. Now, as regards the sleep of the novice, he ought to

deem that his first sleep is his last, and repent of his sins and

satisfy all who have a claim against him; and he ought to perform a

comely purification and sleep on his right side, facing the _qibla_; and

having set his worldly affairs in order, he ought to give thanks for the

blessing of Islam, and make a vow that if he should wake again he will

not return to sin. One who has set his affairs in order while he is

awake has no fear of sleep or of death. A well-known story is told of a

certain spiritual director, that he used to visit an Imám who was

engrossed in maintaining his dignity and was a prey to self-conceit, and

that he used to say to him: “O So-and-so, you must die.” This offended

the Imám, for “why (he said) should this beggar be always repeating

these words to me?” One day he answered: “I will begin to-morrow.” Next

day when the spiritual director came in the Imám said to him: “O

So-and-so, you must die.” He put down his prayer-rug and spread it out,

and laid his head on it and exclaimed, “I am dead,” and immediately

yielded up his soul. The Imám took warning, and perceived that this

spiritual director had been bidding him prepare for death, as he himself

had done. My Shaykh used to enjoin his disciples not to sleep unless

overpowered by slumber, and when they had once awaked not to fall asleep

again, since a second sleep is unlawful and unprofitable to those who

seek God.

_Chapter concerning their Rules in Speech and Silence._

God hath commanded His servants to speak well, e.g. to acknowledge His

lordship and to praise Him and to call mankind to His court. Speech is a

great blessing conferred on Man by God, and thereby is Man distinguished

from all other things. Some interpreters of the text, “_We have honoured

the sons of Adam_” (Kor. xvii, 72), explain it as meaning “by the gift

of speech”. Nevertheless, in speech there are also great evils, for the

Apostle said: “The worst that I fear for my people is the tongue.” In

short, speech is like wine: it intoxicates the mind, and those who begin

to have a taste for it cannot abstain from it. Accordingly, the Ṣúfís,

knowing that speech is harmful, never spoke except when it was

necessary, i.e. they considered the beginning and end of their

discourse; if the whole was for God’s sake, they spoke; otherwise they

kept silence, because they firmly believed that God knows our secret

thoughts (cf. Kor. xliii, 80). The Apostle said: “He who keeps silence

is saved.” In silence there are many advantages and spiritual favours

(_futúḥ_), and in speech there are many evils. Some Shaykhs have

preferred silence to speech, while others have set speech above silence.

Among the former is Junayd, who said: “Expressions are wholly

pretensions, and where realities are established pretensions are idle.”

Sometimes it is excusable not to speak although one has the will to do

so, i.e. fear becomes an excuse for not speaking in spite of one’s

having the will and the power to speak; and refusal to speak of God does

not impair the essence of gnosis. But at no time is a man excused for

mere pretension devoid of reality, which is the principle of hypocrites.

Pretension without reality is hypocrisy, and reality without pretension

is sincerity, because “he who is grounded in eloquence needs no tongue

to communicate with his Lord”. Expressions only serve to inform another

than God, for God Himself requires no explanation of our circumstances,

and others than God are not worth so much that we should occupy

ourselves with them. This is corroborated by the saying of Junayd, “He

who knows God is dumb,” for in actual vision (_`iyán_) exposition

(_bayán_) is a veil. It is related that Shiblí rose up in Junayd’s

meeting-place and cried aloud, “O my object of desire!” and pointed to

God. Junayd said: “O Abú Bakr, if God is the object of your desire, why

do you point to Him, who is independent of this? And if the object of

your desire is another, God knows what you say: why do you speak

falsely?” Shiblí asked God to pardon him for having uttered those words.

Those who put speech above silence argue that we are commanded by God to

set forth our circumstances, for the pretension subsists in the reality,

and _vice versâ_. If a man continues for a thousand years to know God in

his heart and soul, but has not confessed that he knows God, he is

virtually an infidel unless his silence has been due to compulsion. God

has bidden all believers give Him thanks and praise and rehearse His

bounties, and He has promised to answer the prayers of those who invoke

Him. One of the Shaykhs has said that whoever does not declare his

spiritual state is without any spiritual state, since the state

proclaims itself.

“_The tongue of the state_ (lisán al-ḥál) _is more eloquent than my

tongue,

And my silence is the interpreter of my question_.”

I have read in the Anecdotes that one day when Abú Bakr Shiblí was

walking in the Karkh quarter of Baghdád he heard an impostor saying:

“Silence is better than speech.” Shiblí replied: “Thy silence is better

than thy speech, but my speech is better than my silence, because thy

speech is vanity and thy silence is an idle jest, whereas my silence is

modesty and my speech is knowledge.” I, `Alí b. `Uthmán al-Jullábí,

declare that there are two kinds of speech and two kinds of silence:

speech is either real or unreal, and silence is either fruition or

forgetfulness. If one speaks truth, his speech is better than his

silence, but if one speaks falsehood, his silence is better than his

speech. “He who speaks hits the mark or misses it, but he who is made to

speak is preserved from transgression.” Thus Iblís said, “_I am better

than he_” (Kor. xxxviii, 77), but Adam was made to say, “_O Lord, we

have done wrong unto ourselves_” (Kor. vii, 22). The missionaries

(_dá`iyán_) of this sect are permitted or compelled to speak, and shame

or helplessness strikes them dumb: “he whose silence is shame, his

speech is life.” Their speech is the result of vision, and speech

without vision appears to them despicable. They prefer silence to speech

so long as they are with themselves, but when they are beside themselves

their words are written on the hearts of men. Hence that spiritual

director said: “He whose silence to God is gold, his speech to another

than God is gilt.” The seeker of God, who is absorbed in servantship,

must be silent, in order that the adept, who proclaims Lordship, may

speak, and by his utterances may captivate the hearts of his disciples.

The rule in speaking is not to speak unless bidden, and then only of the

thing that is bidden; and the rule in silence is not to be ignorant or

satisfied with ignorance or forgetful. The disciple must not interrupt

the speech of spiritual directors, or let his personal judgment intrude

therein, or use far-fetched expressions in answering them. He must never

tell a lie, or speak ill of the absent, or offend any Moslem with that

tongue which has made the profession of faith and acknowledged the unity

of God. He must not address dervishes by their bare names or speak to

them until they ask a question. It behoves the dervish, when he is

silent, not to be silent in falsehood, and when he speaks, to speak only

the truth. This principle has many derivatives and innumerable

refinements, but I will not pursue the subject, lest my book should

become too long.

_Chapter concerning their Rules in Asking._

God hath said: “_They ask not men with importunity_” (Kor. ii, 274). Any

one of them who asks should not be repulsed, for God said to the

Apostle: “_Do not drive away the beggar_” (Kor. xciii, 10). As far as

possible they should beg of God only, for begging involves turning away

from God to another, and when a man turns away from God there is danger

that God may leave him in that predicament. I have read that a certain

worldling said to Rábi`a `Adawiyya[174]: “O Rábi`a, ask something of me

that I may procure what you wish.” “O sir,” she replied, “I am ashamed

to ask anything of the Creator of the world; how, then, should I not be

ashamed to ask anything of a fellow-creature?” It is related that in the

time of Abú Muslim, the head of the (`Abbásid) propaganda, an innocent

dervish was seized on suspicion of theft, and was imprisoned at Chahár

Ṭáq.[175] On the same night Abú Muslim dreamed that the Apostle came to

him and said: “God has sent me to tell you that one of His friends is in

your prison. Arise and set him free.” Abú Muslim leapt from his bed, and

ran with bare head and feet to the prison gate, and gave orders to

release the dervish, and begged his pardon and bade him ask a boon. “O

prince,” he replied, “one whose Master rouses Abú Muslim at midnight,

and sends him to deliver a poor dervish from affliction—how should that

one ask a boon of others?” Abú Muslim began to weep, and the dervish

went on his way. Some, however, hold that a dervish may beg of his

fellow-creatures, since God says: “_They ask not men with importunity_,”

i.e. they may ask but not importune. The Apostle begged for the sake of

providing for his companions, and he said to us: “Seek your wants from

those whose faces are comely.”

Footnote 174:

_Nafaḥát_, No. 578; Ibn Khallikán, No. 230.

Footnote 175:

A village, mentioned by Ibn al-Athír (x, 428, 24), in the vicinity of

Baghdád.

The Ṣúfí Shaykhs consider begging to be permissible in three cases.

Firstly, with the object of freeing one’s mind from preoccupation, for,

as they have said, we should not attach so much importance to two cakes

of bread that we should spend the whole day and night in expecting them;

and when we are starving we want nothing else of God, because no anxiety

is so engrossing as anxiety on account of food. Therefore, when the

disciple of Shaqíq visited Báyazíd, and in answer to Báyazíd’s question

as to the state of Shaqíq informed him that he was entirely disengaged

from mankind, and was putting all his trust in God, Báyazíd said: “When

you return to Shaqíq, tell him to beware of again testing God with two

loaves: if he is hungry, let him beg of his fellow-creatures and have

done with the cant of trust in God.” Secondly, it is permissible to beg

with the object of training the lower soul. The Ṣúfís beg in order that

they may endure the humiliation of begging, and may perceive what is

their worth in the eyes of other men, and may not be proud. When Shiblí

came to Junayd, Junayd said to him: “O Abú Bakr, your head is full of

conceit, because you are the son of the Caliph’s principal chamberlain

and the governor of Sámarrá. No good will come from you until you go to

the market and beg of everyone whom you see, that you may know your true

worth.” Shiblí obeyed. He begged in the market for three years, with

ever decreasing success. One day, having gone through the whole market

and got nothing, he returned to Junayd and told him. Junayd said: “Now,

Abú Bakr, you see that you have no worth in the eyes of men: do not fix

your heart on them. This matter (i.e. begging) is for the sake of

discipline, not for the sake of profit.” It is related that Dhu ´l-Nún

the Egyptian said: “I had a friend who was in accord with God. After his

death I saw him in a dream, and asked him how God had dealt with him. He

answered that God had forgiven him. I asked him: ‘On account of what

virtue?’ He replied that God raised him to his feet and said: ‘My

servant, you suffered with patience much contumely and tribulation from

base and avaricious men, to whom you stretched out your hands: therefore

I forgive you.’” Thirdly, they beg from mankind because of their

reverence for God. They recognize that all worldly possessions belong to

God, and they regard all mankind as His agents, from whom—not from God

Himself—they beg anything that is for the benefit of the lower soul; and

in the eyes of one who beholds his own want, the servant that makes a

petition to an agent is more reverent and obedient than he that makes a

petition to God. Therefore, their begging from another is a sign of

presence and of turning towards God, not a sign of absence and of

turning away from Him. I have read that Yaḥyá b. Mu`ádh (al-Rází) had a

daughter, who one day asked her mother for something. “Ask it of God,”

said the mother. “I am ashamed,” the girl replied, “to ask a material

want from Him. What you give me is His too and is my allotted portion.”

The rules of begging are as follows: If you beg unsuccessfully you

should be more cheerful than when you succeed, and you should not regard

any human creature as coming between God and yourself. You should not

beg of women or market-folk (_aṣḥáb-i aswáq_), and you should not tell

your secret to anyone unless you are sure that his money is lawful. As

far as possible you should beg unselfishly, and should not use the

proceeds for worldly show and for housekeeping, or convert them into

property. You should live in the present, and let no thought of the

morrow enter your mind, else you will incur everlasting perdition. You

should not make God a springe to catch alms, and you should not display

piety in order that more alms may be given to you on account of your

piety. I once met an old and venerable Ṣúfí, who had lost his way in the

desert and came, hunger-stricken, into the market-place at Kúfa with a

sparrow perched on his hand, crying: “Give me something for the sake of

this sparrow!” The people asked him why he said this. He replied: “It is

impossible that I should say ‘Give me something for God’s sake!’ One

must employ the intercession of an insignificant creature to obtain

worldly goods.“

This is but a small part of the obligations involved in begging. I have

abridged the topic for fear of being tedious.

_Chapter concerning their Rules in Marriage and Celibacy and matters

connected therewith._

God hath said: ”_They_ (women) _are a garment unto you and ye are a

garment unto them_” (Kor. ii, 183). And the Apostle said: “Marry, that

ye may multiply; for I will vaunt you against all other nations on the

Day of Resurrection, even in respect of the still-born.” And he said

also: “The women who bring the greatest blessing are they who cost least

to maintain, whose faces are comeliest, and whose dowries are cheapest.”

Marriage is permitted to all men and women, and is obligatory on those

who cannot abstain from what is unlawful, and is a _sunna_ (i.e.

sanctioned by the custom of the Apostle) for those who are able to

support a family. Some of the Ṣúfí Shaykhs hold marriage to be desirable

as a means of quelling lust, and acquisition (of sustenance) to be

desirable as a means of freeing the mind from anxiety. Others hold that

the object of marriage is procreation; for, if the child dies before its

father, it will intercede for him (before God), and if the father dies

first, the child will remain to pray for him.[176] The Apostle said:

“Women are married for four things: wealth, nobility, beauty, and

religion. Do ye take one that is religious, for, after Islam, there is

nothing that profits a man so much as a believing and obedient wife who

gladdens him whenever he looks on her.” And the Apostle said: “Satan is

with the solitary,” because Satan decks out lust and presents it to

their minds. No companionship is equal in reverence and security to

marriage, when husband and wife are congenial and well-suited to each

other, and no torment and anxiety is so great as an uncongenial wife.

Therefore the dervish must, in the first place, consider what he is

doing and picture in his mind the evils of celibacy and of marriage, in

order that he may choose the state of which he can more easily overcome

the evils. The evils of celibacy are two: (1) the neglect of an

Apostolic custom, (2) the fostering of lust in the heart and the danger

of falling into unlawful ways. The evils of marriage are also two: (1)

the preoccupation of the mind with other than God, (2) the distraction

of the body for the sake of sensual pleasure. The root of this matter

lies in retirement and companionship. Marriage is proper for those who

prefer to associate with mankind, and celibacy is an ornament to those

who seek retirement from mankind. The Apostle said: “Go: the recluses

(_al-mufarridún_) have preceded you.” And Ḥasan of Baṣra says: “The

lightly burdened shall be saved and the heavily laden shall perish.”

Ibráhím Khawwáṣ relates the following story: “I went to a certain

village to visit a reverend man who lived there. When I entered his

house I saw that it was clean, like a saint’s place of worship. In its

two corners two niches (_miḥráb_) had been made; the old man was seated

in one of them, and in the other niche an old woman was sitting, clean

and bright: both had become weak through much devotion. They showed

great joy at my coming, and I stayed with them for three days. When I

was about to depart I asked the old man, ‘What relation is this chaste

woman to you?’ He answered, ‘She is my cousin and my wife.’ I said,

‘During these three days your intercourse with one another has been very

like that of strangers.’ ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘it has been so for five and

sixty years.’ I asked him the cause of this. He replied: ‘When we were

young we fell in love, but her father would not give her to me, for he

had discovered our fondness for each other. I bore this sorrow for a

long while, but on her father’s death my father, who was her uncle, gave

me her hand. On the wedding-night she said to me: “You know what

happiness God has bestowed upon us in bringing us together and taking

all fear away from our hearts. Let us therefore to-night refrain from

sensual passion and trample on our desires and worship God in

thanksgiving for this happiness.” I said, “It is well.” Next night she

bade me do the same. On the third night I said, “Now we have given

thanks for two nights for your sake; to-night let us worship God for my

sake.” Five and sixty years have passed since then, and we have never

touched one another, but spend all our lives in giving thanks for our

happiness.’” Accordingly, when a dervish chooses companionship, it

behoves him to provide his wife with lawful food and pay her dowry out

of lawful property, and not indulge in sensual pleasure so long as any

obligation towards God, or any part of His commandments, is unfulfilled.

And when he performs his devotions and is about to go to bed, let him

say, as in secret converse with God: “O Lord God, Thou hast mingled lust

with Adam’s clay in order that the world may be populated, and Thou in

Thy knowledge hast willed that I should have this intercourse. Cause it

to be for the sake of two things: firstly, to guard that which is

unlawful by means of that which is lawful; and secondly, vouchsafe to me

a child, saintly and acceptable, not one who will divert my thoughts

from Thee.” It is related that a son was born to Sahl b. `Abdalláh

al-Tustarí. Whenever the child asked his mother for food, she used to

bid him ask God, and while he went to the niche (_miḥráb_) and bowed

himself in prayer, she used secretly to give him what he wanted, without

letting him know that his mother had given it to him. Thus he grew

accustomed to turn unto God. One day he came back from school when his

mother was absent, and bowed himself in prayer. God caused the thing

that he sought to appear before him. When his mother came in she asked,

“Where did you get this?” He answered, “From the place whence it comes

always.”

Footnote 176:

Here a story is told of the Caliph `Umar, who asked Umm Kulthúm, the

Prophet’s granddaughter, in marriage from her father `Alí.

The practice of an Apostolic rule of life must not lead the dervish to

seek worldly wealth and unlawful gain or preoccupy his heart, for the

dervish is ruined by the destruction of his heart, just as the rich man

is ruined by the destruction of his house and furniture; but the rich

man can repair his loss, while the dervish cannot. In our time it is

impossible for anyone to have a suitable wife, whose wants are not

excessive and whose demands are not unreasonable. Therefore many persons

have adopted celibacy and observe the Apostolic Tradition: “The best of

men in latter days will be those who are light of back,” i.e. who have

neither wife nor child. It is the unanimous opinion of the Shaykhs of

this sect that the best and most excellent Ṣúfís are the celibates, if

their hearts are uncontaminated and if their natures are not inclined to

sins and lusts. The vulgar, in gratifying their lusts, appeal to the

Apostle’s saying, that the three things he loved in the world were

scent, women, and prayer, and argue that since he loved women marriage

must be more excellent than celibacy. I reply: “The Apostle also said

that he had two trades, namely, poverty (_faqr_) and the spiritual

combat (_jihád_): why, then, do ye shun these things? If he loved that

(viz. marriage), this (viz. celibacy) was his trade. Your desires have a

greater propensity to the former, but it is absurd, on that ground, to

say that he loves what you desire. Anyone who follows his desires for

fifty years and supposes that he is following the practice of the

Apostle is in grave error.” A woman was the cause of the first calamity

that overtook Adam in Paradise, and also of the first quarrel that

happened in this world, i.e. the quarrel of Abel and Cain. A woman was

the cause of the punishment inflicted on the two angels (Hárút and

Márút); and down to the present day all mischiefs, worldly and religious

have been caused by women. After God had preserved me for eleven years

from the dangers of matrimony, it was my destiny to fall in love with

the description of a woman whom I had never seen, and during a whole

year my passion so absorbed me that my religion was near being ruined,

until at last God in His bounty gave protection to my wretched heart and

mercifully delivered me. In short, Ṣúfiism was founded on celibacy; the

introduction of marriage brought about a change. There is no flame of

lust that cannot be extinguished by strenuous effort, because, whatever

vice proceeds from yourself, you possess the instrument that will remove

it: another is not necessary for that purpose. Now the removal of lust

may be effected by two things, one of which involves self-constraint

(_takalluf_) while the other lies outside the sphere of human action and

mortification. The former is hunger, the latter is an agitating fear or

a true love, which is collected by the dispersion of (sensual) thoughts:

a love which extends its empire over the different parts of the body and

divests all the senses of their sensual quality. Aḥmad Ḥammádí of

Sarakhs, who went to Transoxania and lived there, was a venerable man.

On being asked whether he desired to marry, he answered: “No, because I

am either absent from myself or present with myself: when I am absent, I

have no consciousness of the two worlds; and when I am present, I keep

my lower soul in such wise that when it gets a loaf of bread it thinks

that it has got a thousand houris. It is a great thing to occupy the

mind: let it be anxious about whatsoever you will.” Others, again,

recommend that neither state (marriage or celibacy) should be regarded

with predilection, in order that we may see what the decree of Divine

providence will bring to light: if celibacy be our lot, we should strive

to be chaste, and if marriage be our destiny, we should comply with the

custom of the Apostle and strive to clear our hearts (of worldly

anxieties). When God ordains celibacy unto a man, his celibacy should be

like that of Joseph, who, although he was able to satisfy his desire for

Zulaykhá, turned away from her and busied himself with subduing his

passion and considering the vices of his lower soul at the moment when

Zulaykhá was alone with him. And if God ordains marriage unto a man, his

marriage should be like that of Abraham, who by reason of his absolute

confidence in God put aside all care for his wife; and when Sarah became

jealous he took Hagar and brought her to a barren valley and committed

her to the care of God. Accordingly, a man is not ruined by marriage or

by celibacy, but the mischief consists in asserting one’s will and in

yielding to one’s desires. The married man ought to observe the

following rules. He should not leave any act of devotion undone, or let

any “state” be lost or any “time” be wasted. He should be kind to his

wife and should provide her with lawful expenses, and he should not pay

court to tyrants and governors with the object of meeting her expenses.

He should behave thus, in order that, if a child is born, it may be such

as it ought to be. A well-known story is told of Aḥmad b. Ḥarb of

Níshápúr, that one day, when he was sitting with the chiefs and nobles

of Níshápúr who had come to offer their respects to him, his son entered

the room, drunk, playing a guitar, and singing, and passed by insolently

without heeding them. Aḥmad, perceiving that they were put out of

countenance, said: “What is the matter?” They replied: “We are ashamed

that this lad should pass by you in such a state.” Aḥmad said: “He is

excusable. One night my wife and I partook of some food that was brought

to us from a neighbour’s house. That same night this son was begotten,

and we fell asleep and let our devotions go. Next morning we inquired of

our neighbour as to the source of the food that he had sent to us, and

we found that it came from a wedding-feast in the house of a government

official.” The following rules should be observed by the celibate. He

must not see what is improper to see or think what is improper to think,

and he must quench the flames of lust by hunger and guard his heart from

this world and from preoccupation with phenomena, and he must not call

the desire of his lower soul “knowledge” or “inspiration”, and he must

not make the wiles (_bu ´l-`ajabí_) of Satan a pretext (for sin). If he

acts thus he will be approved in Ṣúfiism.

The Kashf al-mahjúb: The oldest Persian treatise on Súfiism · 第 10 / 12 章